


All the Words We Hold Back

by octobersymphony



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Making Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 13:39:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octobersymphony/pseuds/octobersymphony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>When Jenson is angry, he grows quiet and cool and his smile is superficial, all hard, sharp edges where there's usual brilliant warmth.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Words We Hold Back

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Hockenheim 2012.
> 
> (PS. Please don't share this on Tumblr. Or at least don't tag the driver names!)

It takes Sebastian a little too long to figure out that Jenson is actually, honestly mad at him. 

In his defense, Jenson's anger is different from other people's and so subtle that it's easy enough to miss. When Sebastian gets angry, he snaps at people and huffs and storms off. When, say, Mark is pissed off at you, he fixes you with the kind of glare that makes you think you'll drop dead from it any second now, and everything he says is filled with so much biting sarcasm that it makes you cringe.

Jenson, though... When Jenson is angry, he grows quiet and cool and his smile is superficial, all hard, sharp edges where there's usual brilliant warmth. He might as well just be distracted, the way he avoids Sebastian's gaze after the race and doesn't really talk to him and keeps an arm's length of distance between them.

When Sebastian realises that he may have misjudged the situation, it's a little too late because they're on the podium and Niki fricking Lauda is all but pointing it out to him and thirty million other people.

And this, precisely, is why you shouldn't be friends with other drivers, why someone like Fernando will be perfectly friendly and nice during the race weekends or when you run into him at tests and at official events but refuses to hang out with any of his rivals during his spare time: because you start to care about shit like that. This is why you don't get _involved_ , platonically or otherwise. It shouldn't matter to Sebastian that Jenson is cross with him for something he did on the track, because winning a position is more important than having fuzzy feelings for a fellow driver. Except it does matter, and it makes the elation of coming second in his home race go stale and sour and takes the joy out of his podium finish even as he tries to put on a happy face and pours champagne down the collar of Jenson's overalls. 

Afterwards, everyone is whisked away for the press conference and then it's interviews and team debriefings, and there's no chance for him to pull Jenson aside and try to talk to him. 

Sebastian is on his way to the airport when the memo about the penalty comes in. When Christian calls him to let him know, cursing at the stewards and assuring him that he's done the right thing whether or not the officials share that judgement, Sebastian feels angry and tired and disappointed because it seems like the entire world is conspiring against him.

He's tempted to send Jenson an angry text, a sulky little, 'Congratulations, looks like you got your way' that's brimming with righteous indignation, but before he can type the message he's saved by a security guard at the check-in telling him in a clipped tone to put his phone away now please. He switches it off and doesn't turn it back on until much later, hours after he arrived home, and by then he's too tired and the fight he was itching for a few hours ago doesn't really seem like a good idea anymore.

* * *

Monday is Sebastian's day off, a clear schedule for once. He sleeps in and reads the morning papers over coffee and feels validated when some of them agree that his penalty was wrongly imposed. When his phone rings before he's even finished his second cup of coffee, he assumes that it's the team and answers without checking the display.

Instead of Christian or Rocky, it's Jenson's voice on the other end of the line that greets him with a cheerful, "Heya, how are you?"

There's no caution in his tone, no layered hidden meaning in the words.

Jenson, no matter how weird he gets when he's pissed off, is remarkably quick to forgive and let go. Sebastian remembers back in 2010 when things between him and Mark were incredibly tense and remained that way for the better part of the season, Jenson kept shaking his head and giving them odd looks. 'Are you guys still not talking?' he asked, incredulously. Sebastian had shrugged and insisted that they were, in fact, talking, but Jenson had just rolled his eyes and said, 'I don't think one word replies count as talking, mate.'

Unlike his own, Jenson's attention span for holding grudges is somewhere between five minutes and eight hours. 

Sebastian assumes that even this call is actually a concession to him, because Jenson knows that Sebastian isn't nearly as good as he is with the whole 'letting it go' thing. If it were up to Jenson, they'd just get together in the paddock in Hungary on Thursday sometime and act as if nothing'd ever happened.

Even now, Sebastian feels the need to justify himself, and he hates it, hates how he's put on the defensive despite feeling like he did nothing wrong, hates how Jenson does this to him without even meaning to. 

"Look, I was really just trying not to make us crash," he says. Knows it's a mistake before the words have left his mouth.

Jenson's reply is a little sharper now. "Do you really want to get into this?"

Truth is, he doesn't. There's no point. Jenson will argue that if Sebastian had wanted to avoid a crash and couldn't have done it while staying on the track, he should have let himself drop back. Sebastian will tell him that he was already as good as past him anyway, so Jenson should really have moved further on the inside. They'll both be at least partially right, and there'll be nothing to be done about it. These things happen when you're racing, and there's absolutely nothing gained from arguing about it afterwards. 

"No, not really."

"How long are you going to stay all prickly and huffy about it?"

Jenson sounds kind of exasperated and long-suffering, the 'I don't know why I'm putting up with you' unspoken but perfectly audible under the words, and Sebastian can't help but laugh a little. 

"Fuck you," he says without any heat. "I'm not any of that. I'm fine. We're cool."

"Good," Jenson says, and then he starts talking about how his flight back was delayed and about this PR thing Jules keeps badgering him to do and about how Lewis has been absolutely insufferable the entire weekend and needs to be stopped snapping pictures at inappropriate moments.

Sebastian leans back and lets Jenson's voice wash over him, and when he catches himself smiling he realises – not for the first time – that he's in too deep.

* * *

Day one in Hungary, and Sebastian has barely made his way into the paddock through the crowds of fans and journalists, when Jenson all but grabs him and pulls him into the Red Bull motorhome.

For a moment, he forgets that he knows Jenson isn't mad at him anymore, unable to stop himself from fretting about the way Jenson is all quiet and intense until he's being pushed against the inside wall of the motorhome and Jenson's lips are on his, hungry and insistent. Sebastian kisses back on instinct at first, and then he kisses back because he wants to, because he pretty much always wants to.

Jenson's mouth trails down across his jaw, smooth against the rough stubble, sucking a bruise on the skin of his neck that Sebastian knows will leave a mark, will be visible above the collar of his overalls tomorrow. He should stop him, but doesn't, because he likes the idea despite himself, the rare display of possessiveness from Jenson sending a sharp stab of arousal through him.

He reaches for Jenson's jeans, fumbling with the belt and the buttons. It takes ages until they finally open, and luckily for him, Jenson is much better at multitasking: he's pulled Sebastian's shirt loose and made quick work of his jeans until they're pooling around his ankles on the floor, and all the while Jenson's lips have never stopped their tireless attack on Sebastian's neck. He gasps a little and his breath stutters, and he can't stop himself from sliding his fingers through Jenson's hair, tangling in it.

At last their boxers are out of the way as well and there's only skin against skin, Jenson's cock rubbing against his in that achingly perfect, mind-blowing, not-quite enough kind of way. Sebastian needs to get closer, crawl into Jenson, wrap his legs around him and let Jenson lift him up and pull against him until there's no air between them, but he can't because the jeans around his feet are keeping his legs in place, effectively trapping him.

He whimpers, and Jenson wraps a hand around their cocks and keeps stroking. It's messy and fast, and when he's close to coming, he pulls Jenson's head up towards his and kisses him, sealing their lips together because it's the only way he knows how to stop himself from crying out.

They break apart, gasping for air. 

Jenson looks positively wrecked as he reaches down and pulls up his pants. There's a streak of come – his or Jenson's, he isn't sure – on Sebastian's shirt, clearly visible on the dark blue fabric. He's glad they're in his motorhome and he can just pull on a spare shirt without walking through the paddock like this. In just a moment, he'll go and find one. For now, though, all he does is sink bonelessly back against the wall, without a care for his state of undress, and catches his breath. 

Fully dressed and looking slightly less dishevelled than a few minutes ago, Jenson closes the distance between them again and leans in, his lips brushing over Sebastian's. He responds in kind, and the kiss is soft and teasing, without the urgency of before. 

Jenson smirks. "I kind of missed doing this last Sunday. Had been looking forward to it."

Sebastian is about to reply that it was Jenson's own fault because he was the one who wasn't talking to Sebastian after the race when the door opens and Mark comes in. He doesn't immediately see them, and Sebastian frantically tries to come up with an escape plan. But then it's too late and Mark freezes when he spots them. 

He rolls his eyes. "Oh come on, get a room, will you?"

Sebastian flushes and he feels the absurd need to say something along the lines of 'It's not what it looks like', never mind that he's wearing a come-streaked shirt and he's naked from below the waist. Jenson doesn't bother saying anything, he just flips Mark off. Mark shakes his head and pushes past them, swatting Jenson over the head in a half-annoyed, half-affectionate way that ignites a spark of jealousy somewhere in Sebastian's heart at the easy camaraderie they share. Jenson and Mark have probably never let something that happened on the track fester and affect their friendship. Then again, Mark isn't the one Jenson pulls into trailers to have his wicked way with – at least not to Sebastian's knowledge – so maybe he got the better end of the bargain after all.

When Mark has disappeared from sight, Jenson steals another kiss and really, what's wrong with him? Sebastian's teammate is approximately ten feet away! He pushes Jenson away and pulls up his pants, trying to ignore Jenson's cheeky grin and what it does to him, the way it makes his treacherous cock stir in his pants and tempts him to say words he would probably regret the moment he speaks them.

Some of them – not the worst ones, fortunately – refuse to be held back: "I hate fighting with you," Sebastian hears himself saying, cringing inwardly at the words.

Jenson's grin turns a fraction warmer, brighter. "I don't know, Seb, I kind of like the making up part."

He winks at Sebastian and ducks out of the trailer before Sebastian can find a suitable comeback. It takes him a while to figure out that, hidden in the space between Jenson's innuendo, there was a 'yeah, me too' and 'don't worry, we'll be okay'. Perhaps he's getting better at reading Jenson after all.

* * *

End.


End file.
